


I Love My Bestfriend (But He Hates Me)

by NLnamedood



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Amazingphil - Freeform, Daniel Howell - Freeform, Gay, M/M, Misunderstandings, Phil Lester - Freeform, Unrequited Love, danandphil - Freeform, danisnotonfire - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 15:44:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14523897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NLnamedood/pseuds/NLnamedood
Summary: YouTubers Dan Howell and Phil Lester have been housemates for the past nine years. Is it finally time for that to change? Or is there something Or someone in their way? Or is it just MISCOMMUNICATION?Realistic phanfic based on their true lives.





	1. A Day in the Life of Dan

Dan

I was looking through the footage Phil and I had shot for today's video and noticed how awkward we looked sat next to each other like that. I was making it awkward. Because the phandom was shipping us a lot recently and I did not feel very comfortable with that. Phil laughed and shrugged it off but it was really off putting having to give a negative response every time a phan asked if I was gay. Having a girlfriend who constantly asked to be a part of my videos or at least mention that we were in fact dating when I didn't want that part of my life being pried wide open for people to look at and judge was not very helpful either. If it were up to me, I would have dumped her a very long time ago. Hell, I would never have asked her out to begin with if it wasn't for my parents pestering me to get a girlfriend! I sound like the Scooby-Doo gangsters: "if it weren't for those meddling kids!"

But all that's out the window now. I have a girlfriend and it's God's grace she's halfway across the globe at the moment and hopefully for a lot of moments. It was rather easy, actually, catching a prey. I could tell from the first time we met her, the way she was swooning over me; pathetic really.

In our first collab with her, that she unoriginally titled 'Amazing Cat is not on fire', the attention she was paying me was blatantly explicit. Even the phans noticed and thankfully had the same reaction I did to it of not wanting to include her in our happy little circle. Sigh if only Phil had stood up right then and there and—he looked so lost in the video...

I asked her out in front of him to spite him because of a fight we'd had the day before when he commented that he found her pretty. My blood was boiling and I had to do something to trigger him.

He smiled.

And congratulated us when she 'yippee!'ed and said 'yes'. Then he went into his room and I was stuck entertaining Cat the whole day and he didn't come out again.

Sigh

And now, here we were, years later, Cat thinking everything's blissfully happy and Phil in his own little bubble of joy and wonder and gummy bears and only I am aware of the depth of this situation. My dark humour and dark clothes don't just stem from my depression, they come from protest. Can no one tell my entire aura is screaming for attention? I look so awkward with Phil touching my neck in the footage. Sure, I brushed it off as the 'thing with my neck' but it wasn't just that this time. It was him. His touch. His proximity. I've been walking around with this ball of fear and guilt at all times for the past nine years. Fear of judgement and the response I may get from him if I had laid myself out in front of him point blank all those years ago and guilt from hiding my true self.

From the first time my friend showed me an AmazingPhil video, I was mesmerised by his flirty attitude followed by extremes of innocence any heart would warm to.

Phil poked his head into my room, the door of which is always open, as is his, except while we need our privacy. "Editing?" he questioned, blue eyes glimmering mischievously. I mock-sigh and nod.

"Can I come in?" he asks politely

Seven years we've lived with each other and he's still polite to the point of discomfort to himself. It wasn't like we were not close enough to each other for him to put aside his politeness but just the way he was brought up demanded of him to be this way.

I nodded. He walked in and sat on the edge of my bed in his pastel blue tee and black jeans and of course, mixed- matched socks—today's theme was pumpkin patch and sea lions.

"I'm bored," he said in a way-too-innocent voice

"What do you wanna do?" I said sarcastically, putting down my laptop; I'm on to him.

"Eat cheese!" he bounced up and down in glee and pulled out a cube of cheese from his pocket. Phil? Cheese? No, no, no.

I raised an eyebrow sarcastically. He slowly opened the wrapper and brought it close to his open mouth. He looked at me for a second and then flung it away, "Fine! I cant do it! but I want to try. Help me?" he asked with such genuine eagerness that I had to agree. He ran to his room and called after me.

He had our camera set up and a bag of full of groceries from the store.

"Try new things!" he exclaimed, pointing to a packet of cheese and other things he didn't like. He turned the camera on and asked me to be his assistant and I sat there making sarcastic comments, being more open than before to cover up any awkwardness.

"Nope. Still don't like cheese." Was his verdict after we finished

"Can I get back to editing , sire?"I asked mockingly as Phil put the large block of cheese on his head like a crown.

"You may, peasant!" he responded in a thick accent. As I headed out, smiling at his childishness, he called, "Peasant!"

I turned and bowed low. "We need to order pizza to get that taste off." He said, then made a gagging sound and twirled himself onto his bed and stubbed his toe. I facepalmed. Typical Phil. "Get some ice on that, Philly." I said as I walked off to order the pizzarini!

I stayed in my room, editing and laughing at how innocently frustrated Phil looked in our charades video. I replayed the part with him saying, "This was freaking BETWEEN!" over and over again and bent down and planted a kiss on the screen.

"Watching J-Law? Or Evan P?" Phil's head asked me, stuck in my room, smirking.

"Yeah," I said nervously, smacking my laptop shut

"Lemme see!" he said, "I didn't know you'd finished editing already! Plus, watching a movie without the lights turned out? Come on, Dan." He sat beside me and reached for the laptop on my lap.

I moved it away and said, "You're right. Let's watch it on the TV in the lounge. I don't wanna spoil it for you. Come on." Phil looked slightly suspicious as he conceded we were just in time for the pizzas too so we turned on Hunger Games and sat down to watch.

At the halfway point, I switched the lights back on and threw my cardboard box away. Phil followed me into the kitchen.

"How's Cat?" have you spoken to her recently?

"She's fine, I guess. I don't know," I mumbled, slightly annoyed

"Dan, you can't be in a relationship with someone halfway across the globe and not even call her up once in a way" he sounded worried for me and that put me on edge

"I can take care of my relationships, myself, Phil. I don't need your advice." I bit out

"Look," he said slowly, "I'm just warning you, the next time she calls might be to break up!" my blood was boiling with rage

"Maybe I want her to break up with me!" I spat out and picked up a carton of OJ and stomped off to my room. In a few minutes my anger quelled and I felt bad that I'd been so harsh with Phil. I was debating on going to his room to apologise when there was a knock on my door.

I went to unlock it and was immediately engulfed in a hug as 'sorry's were rained on me. I tensed up for a second, feeling my heart race and before I made Phil feel worse, I urged my leaden arms to go around his body and embraced the pepperoni-flavour scented boy in my arms.

"I'm sorry, Phil it's not your fault at all. I shouldn't have yelled at you." I nestled into the crook of his neck

"If I wasn't jealous, none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have said that." He confessed

Jealous. Of course.

Jealous because I had Cat and not him. my heart sank. He liked Cat. He liked girls. How could I forget?

"I'll break up with her, Phil. You can have her." I said as let go of him

He was blushing, "Yes...no..you don't have t break up with her, Dan. I don't like her that way."

A jape? From Phil? Who was he kidding?

"I've wanted to break up with her for a long time, Phil. I never liked her. My heart's always been with—someone else." I looked into his sparkling blue eyes.

"Oh, I—uh, I just remembered I needed to do something," he said, "Are we good?"

I smiled the most convincing one I could muster. He turned around and walked out.


	2. The Way I Pheel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, this is from Phil's and Dan's POV btw. I'll make sure to header it when it changes perspective. Enjoy! <3

PHIL

I walked out of Dan's room. Seeing him so eager to give up Cat because he thought I liked her, I was almost going to confess my feelings for him. but he admitted that he liked someone else... 'my heart is with someone else'...maybe even loves them. The cute dimpled smile he gave me sent my feelings skyrocketing. I wish he didn't like girls.

When I asked him about Cat, I was trying to put my feelings aside, but he misunderstood my intentions. And I was so glad he didn't like Cat; I'm disgusting. When we were watching the movie, I felt so connected and bonded with him, but I guess he'll never see me that way.

I rushed to my room and shed a tear as I reminisced about how at one time, he would tweet flirty messages for me and I was blind and didn't realise he was joking. Even today, I'd plucked up the courage to ask him out to dinner but he was so disinterested and masculine, I was so certain he'd laugh at me, so I had to fish out a block of cheese from my pocket and try to eat it. sadly, I couldn't. it's just blergh! Now I'm sat here and all I want is cornflakes.

DAN

I felt glum and down and thought a warm glass of milk may help. I walked out and noticed a trail of—MY cereal on the floor leading to the front door. I followed it and found Phil sat outside. I sat beside him.

"Dan! I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, an embarrassed, guilty look on his face. He handed me the cereal box.

"it's alright. Go ahead." I sigh. How could someone not fall in love with Phil?

I sure as hell did. And I couldn't help it.

We sat there for a few minutes in silence—Phil scooping cornflakes into his mouth and me just sat there. And for the first time in months there was no awkwardness in the air, no tension. Maybe we could just be friends...or maybe I was just tired from all the goings-on today and my body couldn't handle more discomfort.

 

"Phil," I said quietly, "do you think we've drifted apart?"

He turned toward me and looked at me for a second before turning his attention back to the half-empty box of cocopops. "I—I'm not sure, Dan. I think we need to talk about what's wrong and not bottle it up... you don't like Cat?" he paused, hesitating, "Since when?"

I sighed. I knew this would happen, I would have to tell him sometime, so why not now?

"Yeah...I don't...I just wanted to make mum happy and..." I put my face in my hands, "Now I'm just waiting for her to break up with me."

Phil put the box down and scooted closer, "Dan, she's never going to break up with you. You're perfect. Haven't you seen the way she s around you? She worships you!"

A bit far-fetched, I supposed, but I was feeling a bit lighter now

"And when did you realise you didn't want to be with her?"

"From before I even asked her out."

Phil's brows knitted together in a cute crinkled-up manner and it was hard to stop the smile that was creeping up on me.

"Then why—am I prying?" he looked ashamed

"Why I asked her out?" well, here went nothing, "Because I was mad at you."

His forehead crinkled even more and he looked slightly disbelievingly at me, "What are you on about?"

"We'd had a tiff the previous day after you'd said she was pretty, remember?" Phil remained silent, letting me continue, "When we met her the next day, I wanted to annoy you, so I sked her out." I couldn't meet his eyes anymore but I could still feel his gaze bore into me.

"Because you thought—I liked her." I nodded though it wasn't a question

He was quiet for a minute and I didn't say anything either, "I never did understand what the argument was over," he finally commented

I closed my eyes, "I got jealous that you liked her..." I trailed off

 

 

PHIL

 

What was Dan talking about? He was jealous of me? Phil? "What do you mean?" I asked, feeling like I was treading in dangerous territory. Dan was being way too sketchy about this, not telling me the whole deal without being directly questioned about it.

"Forget it, Phil, you won't understand."

Did it have to do with his depression? Was it a coping mechanism he'd adopted and later regretted? We were best friends, why didn't he think I would get him?

"Is this something you'd like to speak to a therapist with?" I asked gently

He didn't say anything and just kept his head down, rested in his hands. "No. I have to come to terms with my emotional pull, that's nothing to discuss with a therapist."

Emotional pull? What even was that? "Well, I'm always here for you and you can talk to me anytime. About anything."

He didn't respond. "Okay?" I asked. I wanted him to know for certain that I was there for him, to encourage him even if he wanted to talk about girls.

He nodded. "Good. Good night, Dan." I said and stood up with the cereal box in hand. He needed his space.

"Phil?" he called, face stil buried in his hands

"Yeah?"

"Will you-- go to dinner with me tomorrow?" To talk? of course I'd go with him if that's what'd make him comfortable.

"Sure. How's about Nando's? Dip in, dip out?" I tried to sound my usual bubbly, positive self, even if I didn't feel very thrilled about how this day turned out, if only to bring a smile to his face.

"No. No Nando's this time," he looked up at me, "Will you go on a date-- with me?" he held his breath

"What?" My heart stopped. how did he--? Did he know? Was this a joke? A farce? This 

Whole time I was worried for him and he—"I hate you," I replied, heart crushed and on the verge of tears. I turned my back on him and walked into my room and bolted it shut. I sat on my bed with the cereal box in my hands. Angry and deeply hurt, I flung the box onto the floor and threw my shooets over myself and shut my eyes tight.

Sleep didn't come, but tears sure did, no matter how tight I pressed my eyes closed.

After all this time, did our friendship mean nothing to him? Was it all moot?

I knew he would hate me if I came out to him but this was too far. This was straight up bullying! And the thing that hurt most? I still loved him. Even after he poked fun at my expense-- I loved him. No matter how much I tried to believe that I meant it when I told him i hated him, deep down I knew I loved him and the pain would just have to subside and I'll put aside my pride and talk to him tomorrow and come clean. I would like to go back to being friends if he was okay with it. *sigh*

 

DAN

How could I have expected any less? The look of hurt that crossed Phil's face as he realised I wasn't who he thought I was, followed by the sense of betrayal I saw flash through his eyes were clear indicators that I did the wrong thing.

Now, i was just sat outside my own home, too detached from my body to even find the strength to move. It was the same coping mechanism as always. it was as though i was watching someone else's life tear apart and crash in front of my eyes, but it didn't affect me.

'I hate you,' of course. I lied about everything. He was right to hate me. i hated myself. How could I face him ever again? Will he ever be able to see me the same way again? I should never have done any of this! I smacked my forehead. I got so taken up by his encouragement that I thought there might have been a slight chance this could work and all my dreams could come true. How could I kid myself? Dreams don't come true. That's why they're called dreams.

I finally managed to pull myself up, still feeling disconnected from everything, as if the blow that struck could get worse! Would it hit me stone-cold and hard when I woke up tomorrow or would I never be able to sleep again? The walk to my room passed by in a blur and I was lain on my bed, eyes open and blank-- I could've easily passed for a dead man. I definitely felt like one.


	3. The Past blows by Phast ;)

PHIL

I woke up in a decent mood until I sat up on bed and all of last night's events came hurling themselves back at me. my face drained of any colour it may have had before; I was now literal Voldemort. Great. Go out to talk to my best friend who found out I was gay and consequently bullied me for it looking and feeling like an upside down boat.

Brushing my teeth took me twice as long and the tiles on my bathroom wall were very intriguing today and finding the right clothes, another half-hour. Who was I kidding? I was stalling and I knew it.

With my hand on the cold door that didn't feel that cold since my hands were deathly cold and shaking, I took a deep breath before plastering a smile to my face and turning the handle and stepping out. I peeped into the lounge. No Dan there. I listened at his door. Nothing. I crept through the entire apartment but Dan was not home. Though this shud have made things easier, I was finding this worse. It meant he didn't want to even see me. Was I that repulsive? I looked in the mirror.

Who was I kidding? Dan would never go out with me. Even if he did like boys. I went back into my room and didn't come out again.

I heard the keys turn in the front door as Dan came back at midnight and heard his quiet, slow tread on the carpet. Would he come in here? Would he watch TV? Eat? Did he already eat?

I heard his bedroom door click shut and that's when the floodgates opened up. I thought this would be better. It was hell!

Day 2 went by the same way and so did days 3 and 4. Dan went out at exactly 6:00 a.m. and came back at around 3:00 a.m.; a perfectly scheduled plan to avoid me. And each day, the rip in my heart got a bit wider. Tuesday was the same and so I got up and got out of bed, hesitated for a second before opening and walking out my door, not even sparing a cursory glance toward the lounge for Dan. So it was a surprise when I heard the bolts in the main door slide open as I munched at some of my cereal.

Dan's hand came in first and it was a second before he peeped in, noticed me sat on the sofa and averted his eyes and walked briskly in.

I was so caught-off-guard that I sat dumbly staring at the TV for a while as he put up his coat and keys.

Silence. I felt him tense before he strained and managed, "Phil, can I have a minute?"

"Uh, sure," I said, sounding just as tense as him.

He was standing by the dining table, leaning over it in his only Dan and Phil tee, the one with our faces poking out the breast pocket, hair tousled by the winds and eyes grim.

He had a sheaf of papers in his hand that I only just noticed. I kept my eyes trained on them and let him speak.

"This is our rental agreement." I nodded, confused. He seemed uneasy as he continued, "I feel like I'm done living with a roommate and I want to move on and get a place by myself." He rushed

This took a while for me to understand what he meant. "You want to annul the agreement. Sign it off." I accused

"Just my part. You've always wanted a place to yourself too right, man?" he chuckled, off-beat. "I mean, we can't be roommates forever. We have to move on, get married, have kids, retire!" he gesticulated pronouncedly

"Have you found a place yet?"

"A few actually. I've been looking,"

"Or so I've noticed." He nodded slowly, "When are you—what are your—" I couldn't find the right words to finish my question.

"Soon." he looked uncomfortable, "tomorrow."

I felt like someone kicked me in the gut. "Oh."

"That's why I wanted us to sign the roommate agreement off,"

I signed with the pen he handed me even before he finished speaking. My hands were moving on their own accord, doing the tasks they ought to while my brain processed this day.

He pursed his lips in the way he does when he finds himself in an ironic situation, and raised his eyebrows in a kind of adieu and walked into his room.

I walked into my room in a daze and sat down with my back to my door. I could hear Dan pulling around stuff in his room, heard him swear as he dropped something, heard water flowing, more stuff being moved—packed—then, silence. It was 2:00 a.m. when the noises stopped and I heard no more. Dan had gone to bed. No heaped coal on his head tonight. I willed myself to get into bed—get up at the very least—but I didn't have the will to do so. I sat there and watched as the clock ticked by and sunlight eventually shone in, drawing the minutes closer to when Daniel Howell would no longer be in my life.

At 7:00 a.m., atypical for Dan, he made noises in his room and half an hour later, knocked on my door.

Ah! My legs still worked! Ah! So did my hands! Guess only my brain's in a haze. I looked into those same brown eyes that tried in vain to cover up what a big softie he was and felt a powerful urge to hug him. I resisted.

"It's time for me to go, buddy."

Even thought I knew he would say this, a thousand shards of glass cut through me. Maybe I could still salvage it? If only I told him to forget about everything that happened that night. That we could be friends again. Anything to save me from this agony!

"Can we talk for five minutes—"

"Sorry Phil. The cab's here. I just came to tell you I'm leaving." He looked hurried.

I needed to do something. Anything! Kiss him? Beg him not to go? Tell him I'd break if he left? Hug him one last time, to breathe in his sweet, warm, soap-mixed-with-cookie-dough scent?

"Bye Dan."

He smiled awkwardly and ruffled my hair. I must have looked pathetic. He turned, got his stuff and walked toward the door. "Need help?" I asked, anything to keep time on my side.

"Nah mate, I'm alright."

On his way down, he turned and bade one last farewell before he get in the Uber and went away.

Dan, just like the YouTube name danisnotonfire, was gone. Dan and Phil? More like Dan and Fail. I completely failed to deal with the situation and now I was left with a stupid house and no Dan.

I hated my life!


	4. First Impressions Again

PHIL

I filmed my first video after Dan moved out and try as I might, I wasn't as jovial as I wanted to be. The phans all asked if I was sick and I replied in a live show that I had the flu. The weeks went by as usual and instead of buying two cans of soup, I now bought one. The cashier, seeing me only by half of our regular groceries asked, "How's your friend?" to which I had to reply, "Good. He's on holiday." the information could not be 'leaked'.

My liveshows went out of schedule as I tried to come up with excuses for why I couldn't pull Dan into them. Needless to say, I was bombarded with questions about Dan and why we weren't making any videos together and the phans craving more Sims content. I pushed it off as much I could until it had been too long since we posted a gaming channel video and this would seem incredibly suspicious. 

I scrolled through my contacts until I found the infamous Catrific and phoned her. 

"Hello?" Came her American voice 

"Cat, it's Phil." 

"Oh. Hey, Phil." she sounded clipped. 

I got the polite niceties out of the way and continued, "How're things with Dan?" 

"I don't know, Phil, you tell me." she sounded annoyed

"What do you mean?" 

She sighed, "Dan and I split up. Didn't he tell you?" 

"Oh, I'm sorry, Cat. Dan moved out a while back. I'm trying to reach him to film a video together before our viewers freak out." 

I decided on partial honesty as the only way she would divulge information. 

I was right. Her voice softened as she said, "I didn't know. I have his address somewhere... I'll message it to you." 

"Thanks," 

I got the address and decided to pay old Danny-boy a visit. He wasn't as close-by as I thought he'd be. He'd moved upstate and after half-hour journey on the tube, I found myself in front of a tall apartment building. I looked at the intercom, at the button under the name Daniel J. Howell and pushed down.

Dan's tired voice came over the intercom after my third ring a point at which I was ready to quit. 

"Dan, it's me." I forgot to add who 'me' was, but didn't have to. 

"Phil?" he sounded shocked. Very shocked. 

"Hold on," she said after a moment. 

It took a bit before he got there, but nowhere long enough. Dan looked tired, strained and not to be stereotypical, but like a poet that didn't take good care of himself. He lost weight too. Was he not eating properly? 

We stood there in silence, looking at each other and how the other fared. It has been four months since we parted ways. Did I look as bad as him? Worse for the wear? 

"How are you, Dan?" 

He shrugged, still studying me, "You haven't been eating well, have you?" He accused and immediately frowned at himself, "Sorry." 

I was so thrilled that he'd criticised me just like before, "Neither have you." I smiled. He returned a half-smile and invited me in. 

"You didn't give me a number I could reach you at and the old one's not in use." I felt I had to inform him. 

"I—didn't think you would want to call." Oh. Of course. No person with a bit of shame would come back for more. 

"How did you get my address?" 

"Cat." he nodded, "You guys broke up?" he nodded once more 

"How're you holding up?" he shrugged. 

Well, wonderful conversation so far. I turned to look at his house. It was well-kept and orderly— just the way Dan liked it—without my leaving talks all over the place. It had 1 bedroom and a small cooking space which didn't seem to be in much use. I noticed a box of empty takeaway on the counter. 

"Nice place, you got here." I sounded more optimistic than I felt 

"Thanks. Water?" 

"Nah, I'm good." he looked awkward without something to do so I decided to sit on one of the sofas. 

"Dan," I said, frustrated. He looked up instantly, "Are we still friends?" I know it was blunt, but I had to know. 

"Not if you don't want us to be." his answer was self deprecating and I didn't understand why. 

"I want us to be friends. The best of friends." 

He nodded slowly to himself. This was getting very tiring. "The subscribers want another Dil video." 

His face seemed to say 'oh!' as if a mystery was finally solved. 

"I think we should put aside our—interests right now and give them what they want." another nod 

"Are you alright, Dan?" I was concerned now

"Yeah. Let's do the video soon." 

I was skeptical but said, "Okay. My place for the background, though." 

He nodded. 

"This isn't much of a conversation, Dan." 

"What do you want me to say?" he sounded annoyed, "'Play Mario Kart with me, Phil, I am bored and haven't had anyone to talk to in months'?" 

Wow. That was an out first. I was annoyed by this point. 

"Try and be more courteous and talkative when we film?" I replied sarcastically, a first for me. The line he settled down and noted. * sigh* 

"Sunday?" " Yeah. I'll Be There at noon. No formalities. I know the house. And don't be fake on camera." I was about to ask just what he meant by that when I looked at him smirking up at me. 

I shook my head at him, thankful the meeting didn't go too badly and let myself out. 

"Phil," I turned, "here's my number." "Thanks, Dan." I smiled a genuinely happy smile at seeing this boy again and went back home. 

A certain peace that I lost a while ago along with Dan return and for the first time in 4 months, I had a peaceful sleep.

I woke up and got the house cleaned up, put away my socks and snacks and dusted the crumbs from off my bed and looked at the door to Dan's room which I hadn't opened since he'd left. To see it bare would be the death of me. The only thing I had of his was his half empty box of Crunchy Nut cereal that I've not touched in forever, as a last reminder of him. Cliche, but it's my thoughts, it's not like someone is writing a story about me and attributing these feelings to me, they are actually my thoughts. 

Anywho, he'd be back here tomorrow. A big day in the Dan and Phil-- the Phil-- house. 

The next day started with me setting up the cameras and pulling the lights around with me. At a quarter to two, a timid, but formal knock sounded and I invited Dan in. He look worse then the last time we met. We had bags under his eyes and was slow in his movements. 

" ribena? Water?" I asked, worried for him. 

" save it, Phil." guess he was fine then. 

" should we film, then, all what do you reckon we should do?" I must admit, it was offered doing this. In the past, if one of us wanted to film, we'd go into the other's room and say 'we're filming, come on.' but now it would seem like I was using him if I did that. 

" what do you think I want to do? Make out?" his tone was critical. I couldn't tell if it was self critical or not, but ouch! That was below the belt. 

" come on in, then." I said softly, hurt. 

We walked into the 3rd bedroom in the flat, our gaming channel room. I closed the door behind us and we sat in our chairs. I looked at Dan and smiled at him when he looked at me. He breathed deeply and said, " alright, let's start." 

He looked tired throughout and instead of his sarcastic comments, they were now cynical and depressing and not good footage at all. I start back to tell him this would not work and we'd have to do it again when he grabbed his head and bent down in anguish and put a hand on me, then, realising, took it off and stood up, swaying slightly as he walked out of the room and out the house. 

I tried to stop him but he just said, " leave me alone, Lester." 

So there went my plans for today and we didn't even get a video out of it to appease the subscribers. I wonder what's happened to Dan. He wanted me to leave him alone, though, so I guess I shouldn't go to his house either. 

I'll try his phone in a day or two to check up on him, or maybe he'll come back.


	5. Side Effects of Love

He never did come back. It had been five weeks since he ran out of the house and I'd called him the next day and the next, but had no response and no call back either. I did a liveshow yesterday and everyone kept asking about Dan's health and saying he looked extremely pale and overworked in his last video and I decided to take a look. This was the first in a long time I'd watched his videos and the deterioration was apparent. I tried his phone again, but no response; I landed up at his house and stood there ringing the bell a couple times before I was none-so-kindly told by an old woman that Dan was in hospital. 

Which is why I'm stood outside the A&E, talking with the doctor who explained that Dan was in the ICU after overdosing on antidepressants five weeks back. 

Five weeks... He OD'd before coming over because he didn't want to deal with the stress of the whole situation. My poor Dan. I walked up to the ICU rooms and stood outside the glass doors to Dan's cubicle. He was asleep. He was recovering rapidly, but the fact that he couldn't take his antidepressants meant that he was at an all-time low. I stood there watching him for a while as he breathe in. Out. In. Out. Our breathing synced and then with one shuddering breath, that made mine stop, he awoke. His eyes landed on the glass door and he noticed me. My cue. 

I pushed the door and entered the warm, cosy room, contrasting the cold exterior. It was almost as if saying this little cubicle was loving, caring for you until you walked out into the harsh reality of ruthless life. 

"You don't have to say anything." I immediately said as he opened his mouth, " I don't need an explanation. All I know is you are sick and I want to care for you. You need love and I am here to give you it." 

Dan tried to pull himself into a sitting position and I helped him. He was as warm as his bed and in that instant more fragile than a butterfly. He stiffened when I put my arms around him, but then complied and was my baby in my arms. 

"Hungry?" I asked. He shook his head, but his tummy gave him away by giving a big rumble. I smiled at him, sweetly, showing him all the love I had for him, laying myself bare to him. 

"Hold on," I made my way to the backpack I'd brought with me. I pulled out a box and opened the lid, filling the room with the delicious smell of chicken soup. I brought it to Dan and handed it over while putting my finger over my lips. 

His hands had IVs in then and he couldn't move it up to his mouth so I cajoled the box out of his grasp and eased myself onto the edge of his bed. He kept his eyes down as I brought the spoon of hot soup to his dry mouth, wasn't sure, then finally opened his mouth. He sipped at it and as I withdrew to refill the spoon, he said quietly, "Thank you, Phil."

His voice was so burdened, attacked and tender that my heart tugged toward him, "I love you, Dan. Of course I'll take care of you." There. Said. Now he knew. But would it really mean anything? I didn't know. But I wanted him to know people cared-- I cared. 

"I love you too, Phil. I'm sorry --" 

I silenced him with another spoonful and told him it didn't matter. he was fine and healthy and that was all that mattered. He needed to rest, I knew, but he wouldn't no matter what. I sighed. 

"Dan, I'm not going anywhere. Get some rest," he needed reassurance that he'd have company. This place must've been lonely without anyone. He didn't tell his parents or anyone. The reason why he didn't pick up my calls was because he had his phone taken away by the nurses who advised maximum rest. 

He acquiesced and I helped him lie down. He was so strained that he fell asleep the moment his head touched the pillow. I'd told him I loved him and he returned the same gesture, but to him it was only a brotherly love for me. I could tell from his apologetic tone. 

I was pushed out after visiting hours and sat outside, dozing, until a kindly nurse brought me a sheet.  
the next few days went by the same way; Dan was gaining colour quickly, the doctor said, and it looked like he needn't be in the ICU any longer. In two more days he was shifted to the general ward and I could spend more than an hour with him and bring him little gifts like our dial plushie for him to cuddle and show him snippets of comments and tweets our viewers had sent us that made him happier.

He was more prone to laughter now as he was allowed his dosage if antidepressants-- under doctor's supervision, of course. Nothing special happened, like we blinded wholly and became the best if bros and all our differences vanished instantly like in the movies. Neither did I have any special treatment like getting to stay on after visiting hours; I still had to sleep on a chair outside the ward (Dan thought I was back home), but *something* changed, we weren't SO far apart anymore-- the chasm between us was a minute bit smaller, I couldn't see him from where u stood, but I could hear him finally. It was a start.

I began feeling extremely tired and lethargic and blamed it on my lack of sleep, but after a few bad aches in my belly I had decided to get it checked. I was in a hospital anyway. Why not? My reports would reach me soon enough.

Get a few meds and get treated and I'd be good as new. As I contemplated thus my phone rang and I dreaded what I'd have to hear.


	6. I'm Not Okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm literally writing this on my phone so excuse the use of bold letters where they could've been italicised. Anyway bye. Enjoy Dan's POV for a bit now!

DAN

It had been a while since I'd been able to be happy again.

A month ago, when Phil signed the agreement off it sent a stab through the centre if me and I relive the way the hurt clashed through his eyes and at that moment I wanted to take back everything I'd said and Rio the agreement up, but then-- he immediately, without hestating-- just-- signed it off-- and-- I realised, it was only the time we'd spent together which made him-- surprised-- nothing more. He signed it. He-- signed.

I rushed to my room and threw my stack of books down, kicked my piano and sat in the bath with the shower running over me while hot tears streaked their way down my cheeks. It took me all of an hour to pack and quite a few more before I could stop crying. I didn't sleep that night and holding my tears back with all my willpower, I walked across to Phil's room and then I said goodbye. He wanted to 'talk', but I knew if I let myself fall into the abyss that was his blue pair of eyes I'd never be able to leave. So I left.

My first night and a few more in the new apartment went by in tears and guilt and just as I was getting into a routine of eating Chinese delivered to the place whenever I couldn't go without foot anymore-- usually about four days-- and then lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, counting the specks on it to keep my mind off of Phil, a buzz sounded me into consciousness. I couldn't remember ordering Chinese but who was I kidding, I was starving-- so I'd went and answered the intercom-- "Dan it's me," he'd said. It was hard to feel my heart expand as much as it did hearing Phil's voice. I stumbled backward and chastised myself, telling my mind to stop playing tricks on me. This was not true. How could my mind-- my dreams-- haunt me like this?

I looked back at the light on the screen and for a second I'd let myself believe. I walked down and there he was. My mouth went dry. He looked awful! His ginger roots were more than peeking out now, fringe pushed flat down onto his head, blue eyes tired and dead and his usually loose T-shirt hanging off his visibly shrunken form. I regretted chastising him after our separation, but he didn't seem to mind.

As our conversation unfolded I didn't understand why he wanted to-- patch things up? After all, wasn't this'd what he wanted? Finally my head cleared when he spoke about the Sims video. Of course. Appearances. Made sense.

After he left I felt incredibly ecstatic but before I left for him home that weekend I tossed back a couple extra antidepressant pills to make me happy and comfortable in the situation. I knew SSRIs were impossible to overdose on. What I didn't know were they were NEARLY impossible to overdose on. I knew I was being off during our shoot but my head was reeling and it got to a point where it was burning in my chest so I bent down and the bursting feeling in my head were all too much and I got up and ran out. I didn't want Phil's sympathy so I told him to leave me alone through the pain. When u got a cab, the driver Took one look at me and drove me straight to the hospital.

I was critically unstable, apparently, and I couldn't take my antidepressants for a while which meant I was stuck in my hell dimension for weeks.

My nights were plagued with nightmares because of withdrawal symptoms from the SSRIs and, of course, they were filled with Phil. But here he was teasing me, bullying me, calling me 'fag' and then brandishing a sword and cutting off my head. I woke forms one such nightmare to see the villain from my nightmares himself-- the hero of my dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for the neglect, guys. Been having finals lately. Also been working on another phanfic if you'd like to check it out. I really enjoyed writing it and it's my favourite! <3
> 
> Thank you guys for sticking by me. More soon, I promise.
> 
>  
> 
> https://www.wattpad.com/566619519-in-time-first-kiss


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